Back to the Beginning
by MightyRAWR
Summary: Galbatorix was dead, Ayra was queen, and Eragon and Saphira left for parts unknown to train the new generation of riders. But what if she wasn't queen and Eragon didn't have to leave? What if Eragon received another chance to start their relationship? Eragon and Saphira go back to the beginning and this time they know what they're doing.
1. Flying Away

The ship arched gracefully over the water, past the bend in the river. Arya had left and the shore was empty. Eragon stared out unblinkingly at Alagaesia, knowing it was the last time he would ever see his home land. No matter how much he had prepared for their departure, sadness swept through him with its reality. _But it's right choice._ Eragon, resolved yet desolate, stood at the brow accepting the inevitable. Overhead Saphira howled over the loss of Fírnen. Eragon left her alone, knowing her pain and not wanting a reminder of his own. _Arya.. we were so close._ Somehow it seemed fitting to Eragon that he accomplished everything he wanted to, except that which mattered most. _So that's how Brom felt,_ Eragon thought.

Pulling himself together, Eragon walked over to Blödhgarm. "How long until we reach our new home?"

"A few days Shadeslayer," Blödhgarm responded. "We have to cross the eastern sea first." Eragon nodded and, emotionally exhausted, told Blödhgarm he was going below deck to catch some sleep.

_Good night, Saphira_. Eragon directed the thought toward her and while she acknowledged it, he knew that she needed time to be alone in the sky. Stripping off his sword and cloak, Eragon climbed into the small cot wedged in front of the barrels of supplies. The seamless Elvin barrels were stocked with food and water for the voyage ahead. The thought depressed him for it reminded him that there was no going back. _I can't, my place is with the new riders, and I won't become what I just destroyed_. Clinging to this thought, Eragon descended into his waking dreams.

_I really needed this_, Eragon thought as he and Saphira shot into the sky. Breathing deeply, Eragon leaned his head back and closed his eyes, just feeling the rush of air on his face. Saphira's ascension ended when she reached an altitude where the Elvin ship became a barely distinguishable dot on the ocean beneath her. Looking down through Saphira's eyes, Eragon saw what she saw – the future of her race. _No, not just hers, mine. The riders were driven to extinction as much as the dragons._

_Eragon_, Saphira spoke in his mind, _are we ready for this?_ Eragon knew exactly what she was asking. Were they ready to be the teachers? Were they ready to take responsibility for an entire order? Despite their increased confidence and abilities, they both still had doubts about dealing with what they would find across the sea. This new part of their life was going to challenge them in completely new ways and they would need to change with it.

_I think we have to be. We need a change. After spending so long planning to kill Galbatorix, we need this. I'm not upset that our lives have come to this. We're a rider and dragon, this is our real duty. Besides, the Eldunari will help us._ Eragon felt the truth of his words and took comfort from them. However much he missed his land and his family, he knew that he was going to where he belonged. He was meant to build and learn not to live merely as an assassin or warrior. A sense of rightness settled over Eragon and Saphira and they left their grief behind for the moment. Saphira rose higher and flew faster, eager to begin their new life.

Eragon smiled with exhilaration. _Higher, Saphira! _Saphira roared and soared above the clouds. Although Eragon could still breathe, he knew that the air would soon become thin and cast a spell to provide air for him and Saphira. Through their connection Eragon knew that Saphira was going as high as they had during the storm on their way to Vroengard. The sun blazed even brighter this far above the clouds. Eragon rejoiced with Saphira while they watched the Earth turn beneath them. The curve of the horizon reaffirmed Eragon's discovery that the earth was round, a sphere. The proportions of the land made them feel less important. They were simply a rider and a dragon and their past meant nothing.

Hanging tightly onto the spike in front of him, Eragon tried to lean over Saphira's shoulder for a better view. Saphira's flight jostled him, ending the attempt. _Eragon, hold on tight, there's an updraft. _Saphira only seemed slightly worried about it and Eragon knew he could use magic in an emergency. Eragon began to feel lighter on the saddle, though, and the land too far down. _Saphira…_ Eragon began nervous.

_I'm trying, my wings aren't catching anything, except this one updraft_. She responded frustrated. Eragon began to design a spell to transport them back to the surface, when suddenly there was a significant drop in his energy level. The spell to provide them with air took up more energy the higher they ascended. The heat made it apparent that Eragon needed to cast a spell to protect them both from the sun's rays and that took up even more of his energy. Soon they were stuck up there. Eragon, beyond contact with the Eldunari, was too weak to do anything besides maintain the spells that were keeping them alive. _Saphira, you need to get down!_ Eragon shouted with his mind.

_I'm trying, the updraft is gone but now I have nothing to fill my wings._ Saphira growled and struggled to descend. Eragon kept loosing strength and panic started to fill his mind. _Saphira I'm going to try to push you down. "_Atra Saphira gangr din" (May Saphira go down), Eragon said, his _gedwëy ignasia_ glowing. The land became slightly closer, but the energy left Eragon so rapidly he had to end the spell or risk falling unconscious. Panting, Eragon recovered himself, while Saphira struggled to descend harder than before.

Thoughts of his own mortality filled Eragon's mind. _I'll never see Arya again or train the new riders. I knew a relationship with her would never work, but I still expected to talk to her, write to her. Maybe someday she would have joined me, her duty to her people fulfilled. Why do we always get in these situations? We never got our chance_.

Desperate to save Saphira and himself and to someday see Arya and Fírnen again, Eragon spoke the name of the ancient language, longing for that chance. The world spun and Eragon saw himself and Saphira stranded above the clouds before the world became a whirlwind of colors and everything turned black.


	2. Waking up

Eragon groaned. His entire body paralyzed, he could feel that he was no longer on Saphira's back, but rather an unforgiving, hard floor. His eyes stared upward at the beams in the wooden ceiling, unable to see more because he could not move his neck. He could hear though and the sound of claws against wood sounded to his right. Eragon sluggishly began to connect to magic, but before he could a triangular head entered his field of vision. Slightly larger than his fist the head belonged to a blue dragon hatchling. _Saphira? _He automatically asked with his mind. The instant he asked, he knew that it was she, because her familiar presence connected to his mind and despite his confusion, relief soared through him.

_Hello,Eragon. Nice of you to finally join me_. Saphira replied. _You've been unconscious for about an hour. Get up. I'm starving! _More of her came into Eragon's view and he could see her tiny tail swinging back and forth with impatience.

_I'm working on it. I feel like I've been fighting for days_. As feeling began to enter Eragon's limbs he realized that every part of his body was sore. His right hand felt as though someone had driven a stake through it. He knew that he could move slightly now, but did not because moving increased the painful soreness that permeated his entire body. Worry and confusion came across from Saphira as she watched him struggle. _What happened?_ Eragon managed to ask Saphira.

Saphira stared down at him with worried eyes._ I don't know, Little One, somehow we're back in Carvahall and you just received the_ _gedwëy ignasia__._ Disbelief and exhaustion clouded Eragon's thoughts, but as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, he saw that Saphira was correct. They were in his old room in Garrow's house where he grew up – a house that was destroyed years ago by the Ra'zac. There on the shelf were interesting rocks and roots he had found, while his hunting bow rested in a place of honor in the center. Everything was the same as before he left_. It really is the same_; Eragon looked around more closely in astonishment. Small things brought memories of his childhood to mind and he smiled in remembrance. Eragon glazed at his old bow, too flimsy now for his current strength. A notch in the wood reminded Eragon of Garrow's lecture about being more careful – a common lecture topic where Eragon was concerned. Saphira huffed a little impatiently as moonlight streamed through the window and reflected off her scales. They also reflected off of blue fragments on the floor. _Is that…?_

_Yes, it's my egg. Given the membrane I got off my wings while you were lying unconscious on the floor, I just hatched_. Eragon turned to Saphira, staring at her as a hatchling. He remembered when she had hatched and how frightened he had been. The young farm boy who had never left his own small town had been extremely nervous about harboring a small dragon in his bedroom. Now all he felt was relief that they were together and safe for the moment. No matter how crazy this situation was, he and Saphira were together.

_Receiving the __gedwëy ignasia__ didn't hurt this much last time._ Eragon forced himself to sit up and look over the condition of his body. He didn't see any blood or bruises. He was just exhausted and sore. _Maybe it was the air spell or trying to push us down._

_You look the same as the last time I saw you_, Saphira noted. Surprised, Eragon fingered the tips of his ears and found that there were still as pointy as an elf's. His face felt the same and all of the scars of his childhood were still gone. Then he noticed that all of the scars he had gained in the campaign against Galbatorix were also gone. That grabbed his attention. Looking closer at his hands Eragon found that none of his calluses were there. His hands were back to those of a farm boy accustomed to wielding a plow, instead of a warrior deadly with a sword.

_I think I underwent the transformation again_. Eragon told Saphira, putting the pieces together. Saphira raised a scaly eyebrow at him, clearly not impressed. _I went through the transformation from the __Agaetí Blödhren __again. My younger body just got turned into an almost elf. I underwent the transformation from the __Agaetí Blödhren__ and received the __gedwëy ignasia__ at the same time. No wonder I feel as though I was run over by a rampaging Urgal. _

Saphira backed away to give him room to stand up and then told him very logically that, _since we're both safe our first priority is finding me a meal_. Eragon laughed low and smiled fondly at his companion. They were in the strangest situation he could imagine and she only thought about her stomach_. Stop laughing, I just hatched_, she responded indignantly. _Hatchlings require food immediately and I'm been sitting around trying to get you to wake up for an hour_. Saphira trodded over to the door and extended her neck intending to grab the handle. It was all Eragon could manage to stay standing and laugh silently when she realized that she couldn't reach and tried to flap her still moist wings to gain some height. Concluding that her attempts were futile, Saphira turned around and growled at Eragon. _Stop laughing and help me! Or I'll claw the door down_.

_Stay here; I'll go get you some meat_, Eragon told her. Eragon quietly slipped out the door and looked down the hall. It was strange being back in his old home – stranger still to think of the people here. _Garrow! He's still alive_. _He and Roran are in the next rooms_. Eragon's froze in the hallway with the realization that his uncle was still alive and Roran had not yet endured his grueling journey. It had been so long since Eragon had seen his uncle; his visualization of him had been slipping. It would had been so easy to walk into their rooms, see them, know that they were safe, and their lives were simple. He could tell them how much he loved them then run and never look back. There was no need for them to be involved in his life. There was no reason for them to be hurt by his life. _They should live in peace in Carvahall and the biggest problem Roran should ever have is convincing Sloan to let him marry Katrina. _But uncertainty plagued him. Knowing what could happen so certainly made these decisions so impossible to make. _I need to think about this_.

With effort Eragon drew himself away from staring at their doors and went to get Saphira her meat. Even though it had been years since Eragon had stood in this house, he still remembered where everything was. Stepping lightly back into his bedroom, Eragon gave Saphira her meat and as she tore it to pieces on the floor, he sat on the bed and thought. The issue of Roran and Garrow dominated his thoughts. _They didn't deserve what happened to them. Maybe I _can_ leave and Galbatorix will never be able to trace me back to them._ Even as he thought this he knew it to be impossible, or at least a risk he wasn't willing to take. The Ra'zac will be headed this way soon and Sloan had already seen the egg. _They would still be led here and if I'm not here they will either be taken as hostages or killed_. He could not let that happen again. He would stay, at least long enough to make sure they were safe. He could kill the Ra'zac before they reached the village or lead them off – long before they have a chance to talk to Sloan or learn of Garrow and Roran_. But then the Empire will know I'm from here. Galbatorix will still send someone after I kill the Ra'zac. He will want to know everything he can about the new rider_. _Saphira, what do you think we should –_

_I'm eating!_ She interrupted him. _The world's not going to end in five minutes. _

_No, but the world could change_, he replied.

_Maybe it will. Maybe five minutes from now you and I will be back in the sky on our way across the sea. However, that does not change the fact that I am hungry now and conversing about our future can wait_. She flicked her tail indignantly and chewed a bite of meat with an undue level of propriety and enjoyment.

Eragon was more disturbed by her comment than she was. _What if we are sent back? What if this is temporary and Garrow really is dead?_ Eragon was surprised by his own emotion on the subject. _But isn't a future without Galbatorix better? I can't guarantee that I can kill him again_. _But hundreds of thousands died in the war; shouldn't they have a chance to live? Shouldn't Garrow? Shouldn't Brom? _Eragon felt an overwhelming sense of strength. He could fix things. He knew what was going to happen and why. He could change the future and he could fix everything that went wrong the first time around. He could fight from the beginning since he was already trained. _Maybe I'll have a chance to talk to Brom as my father and as a rider_. Because Eragon truly was a rider now and knew how to lead. _Perhaps Arya will see that…_

_Arya! She's trapped, she's being tortured by Durza!_ That thought caught Saphira's attention. She had been mulling over their situation privately while enjoying her dinner until Eragon mentioned Arya's imprisonment. Panic danced in Eragon's eyes as he started frantically scheming to retrieve her from Durza's grasp.

_Eragon! _Saphira's mental shout snapped Eragon back into reality. There were so many things he had to consider and to do before he could get Arya. He killed Durza through pure luck the last time around. Even though he had grown much and had complete command of the ancient language, the shade was still a formidable opponent – one that he would not want to face with Saphira or Arya. _You will not face him alone_, Saphira reminded him.

_But you're too small to help me now and I don't think Arya would be in any shape for a fight._ Eragon replied.

Then we wait. Saphira calmly told him.

_Wait! Saphira, they have _Arya_. Arya!_ Eragon fumed. _The Elvin princess and future rider. We couldn't have won without Arya. You do realize how important she is to the rebellion, don't you. _

_Is she that important to the rebellion or is she important to you?_ Saphira inquired, completely unfazed by his frustration and anger. Eragon denied nothing and stared at her. Rider and dragon were bonded so completely that he knew that Saphira was getting to something and meant no chastisement for his affections for Arya. But after over a year of rejection and unrequited love, the question still stung. _Eragon, the rebellion didn't get Arya back until much later last time; they'll survive without her now. I know you're trying to think of another plan to get her out but remember this, if you fail she will be transferred to Uru'baen and all chances you have of rescuing her without an army disappear. When we rescue her, we need to do it right, that means waiting until I'm large enough to help and provide an escape route_. Eragon calmed down slightly, but logic could not repress the worry in his heart. Arya was in pain, captured, and he had to sit and do nothing.

_We will not be doing nothing!_ Some of Saphira's own worry for their friend leaked through. _We will train, we will grow, and we will plan, so that when we free her there will be no mistakes._

Silence followed Saphira's declaration and they stood there facing each other and committing themselves not only to her protection, but to having her in their lives. Eragon needed Arya and Saphira needed Fírnen. They would do what was necessary to keep them.

That determination was just as strong in the morning, but more subdued. Eragon had a role to play. Saphira was in the woods by the farm, building muscle in her wings so that she could fly soon. Though, absorbed in her task, she kept contact with Eragon so that she could offer him advise. It had been a long time since he was a farm boy.

_Your biggest issue is your confidence. You need to act unsure of yourself_. Eragon stared at his reflection in the wash basin. The glamour was almost perfect. He did not have enough blemishes for a normal human face and his eyes were a little too piercing, but it would work well enough so long as Roran and Garrow didn't look too closely. _I hope they don't notice the scar on my wrist is gone_.

Eragon needn't have worried. The grueling work of harvesting what little they had managed to grow made conversation scarce. Still they were suspicious. They kept asking Eragon what he did when he disappeared into the woods in the evenings, returning well after dark. The darkness had little to no affect on Eragon's vision, but Roran and Garrow didn't know that. Eragon spent his evenings with Saphira training and teaching his body to remember the sword. He had the strength and he knew the motions in his mind, but all of his muscle memory was gone. He wasn't starting from scratch, but there was still much left for him to accomplish. The Ra'zac began to genuely worry him, since his swordmanship was unrefined and Saphira was too small to handle the Lethrblaka. Magic didn't work well with the Ra'zac since Galbatorix had provided them with so many defenses and Eragon and Saphira would be outnumbered. So, despite how suspicious it might have looked to Roran and Garrow, Eragon trained every night.

_It's not so different from how I behaved last time_, Eragon thought as he walked back toward the house. He had been back for three weeks and in that time his training with Saphira had kept him sane and composed. Two weeks ago Saphira convinced Eragon of one very important idea, "as soon as they started to change the future, they would be unable to predict it and the devil they knew was better than the one they didn't." So for Arya's sake Eragon agreed to stay at the farm until the Ra'zac approach Carvahall.

"Back from your evening stroll?" Roran asked him as he closed to door behind him. Sitting alone in the sparsely furnished room, Roran seemed to welcome Eragon's presence more than was warranted.

"Obviously, I'm here. Were you waiting for me?" Eragon replied with an easy going smile. Things with Roran weren't perfect, but they were good. Eragon had changed a great deal when he became a rider but he still valued his relationship with his cousin. They were as good as brothers after all. _I'm much closer with Roran than I am with my actual brother._

Roran smiled back at Eragon. "Yeah, Father needs some hinges repaired and I was wondering if you were up for going to town tomorrow?"

_Last time we did this I went to Brom and practically told him I was a rider. My father… I get to talk to him as my father. I suppose I knew I would get this chance as soon as I woke up here._ Roran was still looking at him waiting for a reply. "That sounds good. What time are we leaving?"

"Maybe an hour after dawn." Roran lowered his voice slightly, "I hope you don't mind staying a while, but I want to see Katrina. I'd ask you to distract Sloan, but I don't think that would end well."

Eragon forced out a chuckle, which was real sounding enough. "No, I don't think so either. Well I'll see you in the morning." With that Eragon retreated to his room.

_Eragon?_ Saphira's voice rang through his mind. _Eragon, what are you going to tell him tomorrow?_

_I don't know Saphira. How do I tell him that I'm a rider and I know he's my father? How do I convince him that I'm not crazy and really am from the future. And Saphira,_ Eragon took a deep breath then confessed, _how do not blame him for his secrets? _

Saphira was shocked. _I thought you had forgiven him for that and understood that his secrets were necessary._

_I did. But I now I have a chance to know him as my father and because of that I realize how much I missed by not knowing._ Eragon sighed, _I know I'm being foolish, but I'd like for him to tell me everything before I tell him about us or what has happened. _

_I hope you know what you're doing. We need him to help us and we want him to like us. _

Eragon nodded. _I know and I promise I won't mess things up; I just want my father to know that I need him to be a father and not just a mentor. _


	3. An Old Friend

The rising sun reflected off the crisp snow lingering on the ground creating orange and yellow patterns. Pine trees crowned with frost stood sentinel as Eragon and Roran walked toward town. Garrow had seen them off, telling them to be careful and to not be foolish with their money.

Despite the small size of the town, Carvahall still had active streets. Loring and his sons were hauling some lumber toward their workshop and Horst's wife Elain was talking to a farmer's wife near the butcher shop. It was the first time Eragon had seen Carvahall since he abandoned the town to hunt down the Ra'zac and after that the town had been destroyed. Learning of the destruction of his home had depressed Eragon, but now, seeing the lively village in its prime, the thought of its loss caused an intake of sharp breath. This was his home, more than Elesmira or Farthen Dûr ever could be. It lacked the exotic beauty of those cities, but it possessed a beauty that suited Eragon more. He loved the mountains surrounding the village and the river that ran beside it. Kindhearted people in the shadow of an untamed labyrinth of wilderness. The fearsome spine brought him no anxiety, for he knew that he could survive alone in the spine for as long as he wanted. Eragon paused at the edge of the village just to stare at his home; he knew that he would have to abandon it yet again and he could not guarantee that it would still be standing for his return.

"What's wrong?" Roran's voice forced Eragon out of his memories and his worries. Not stopping with Eragon, Roran had proceeded and turned around when he noticed that his cousin wasn't following him.

"Nothing's wrong. I was just looking for Brom. I have a few questions for him and I wanted to see if he's walking around before I go to his house." Eragon replied. There was no hesitation in his voice that Roran would be able to discern.

Roran shook his head. "I don't know why you bother talking to irascible old Brom. He'll just hit you over the head with his cane once he realizes that you're a bottomless pit of questions that will never stop bothering him." Roran's smile showed that he was teasing Eragon. Eragon laughed not because of the reference to himself, but because Brom had hit him over the head with sticks during their sparing sessions more times than he wanted to consider.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to take the risk and hope the cane breaks before my head does," Eragon replied. "Do you want me there to get the hinges?" Eragon asked.

"That's ok. It should be easy to explain to Horst what we need. Go find Brom. It won't take long and I'm going to find Katrina after," Roran assured him, grinning about his later plans.

Eragon winked suggestively and told Roran to have a good time. Ducking a blow to the head, Eragon proceed toward Brom's house as Roran promised behind him that he would get him for that later. When Eragon reached Brom's door all playfulness was forgotten. He hesitantly approached the metal knocker as impatience and reluctance battled for supremacy in Eragon's mind. _I need to do this_, Eragon thought as he steeled himself and knocked. He heard footsteps and shuffling inside, but Brom seemed to be taking his time answering the door. "One moment," came a muffled shout and Eragon's enhanced ears could detect the rustling of parchments being moved.

Finally the footsteps drew closer to the door and it opened to reveal Brom's aged and hawk-like face. He looked exactly as Eragon remembered him: exactly as he looked when he died. _Father…_ Eragon took a deep breath and smiled just as he always would when he came pestering Brom with questions. He'd always try to look as excited to see Brom as possible in an attempt to get his questions answered. Brom had never turned him away. _And it wasn't just because I was always happy to see him._

"Oh. You. I suppose you have an endless list of questions for me?" Brom asked when he saw Eragon and his overly innocent grin. Eragon was surprised his grin didn't slip when he heard his father talk to him. At Eragon's nod he said, "Well, come on in. I just put a pot of tea on the fire." He turned and walked into the dim house, knowing that Eragon would follow. "So what's the topic today?"

"Oh there's a great deal on my mind. I don't think I could put it under a single topic," Eragon replied as he stepped into Brom's small house. A normal human would barely be able to see in the dim lighting, so Eragon moved slowly, carefully with his hands in front of him until Brom lit a candle. The house was as Eragon remembered it, but so different. He recognized so many things here that he would never have known without his education. The scrolls and books stacked around the room meant so much more to him now that he could read. He recognized the golden titles of many books and recognized the written form of the ancient language on others. After all of his travels the items in the room became far from trivial. The candle holder was of dwarfish make as they had in Farthen Dur. The pen on Brom's desk was the type the elves favored. The bowl that held Brom's matches was made of the red clay only found in the southern regions of the Empire and Surda. Evidence of how well-traveled Brom was lingered all throughout the room, it just took another traveler to recognize it.

_Saphira? How do I start this conversation?_ Eragon asked urgently, not actually expecting a response but hoping for one anyway. They had puzzled all night over how to tell Brom and they still didn't have any ideas.

Saphira was off hunting in the spine, but she was focusing on Eragon more now than the deer beneath her. Brom stood by the hearth and prepared the tea. Lifting the kettle to hang above the small flames he had created while Eragon looked around, Brom told Eragon to take a seat and that the tea would be done in a few minutes. Eragon carefully moved some parchment off of a chair near the fire and Brom moved to sit across from him. "So, do you have a topic in mind to start?" Brom asked him.

Eragon took a deep breath and somehow managed to provide a reasonable answer. "I was wondering what the world outside Carvahall is like. Uncle said that you aren't from around here and I thought you might know something about the cities in the south. I know it's been a long time since you left Carvahall, you've lived here almost my entire life, but even if you could tell me what they used to be like, I would appreciate it."

"Hmm…," Brom paused looked at Eragon intently, "Are you planning on going somewhere?"

_Remember Eragon, you're here to tell him the truth_, Saphira spoke into his mind. Eragon acknowledged her comment and said to Brom, "It's something I've been thinking about. Perhaps there are better things outside of Carvahall." _Like Arya_, he thought to himself quietly.

"There are many things outside of Carvahall, but that does not make them better, just different," Brom replied still scrutinizing Eragon.

Eragon took a deep breath and decided to mention his mother. "My mother left Carvahall and seemed to find better things." Eragon watched Brom carefully and noticed a slight shadowing in his eyes. As far as Eragon was supposed to know Brom had never met his mother. Brom schooled his expressions very carefully. Not carefully enough though, Eragon saw the worry etched on Brom's brow.

"Perhaps you should be talking to your uncle if this about your mother?" Brom asked. It was a careful question, one that wouldn't give away any knowledge from Brom, but asked for more from Eragon.

Eragon paused. He looked Brom in the eye and said slowly and deliberately, "It's more about my father actually." It was direct, but it also didn't reveal how much Eragon knew. Brom became even more guarded and Eragon suspected that he was trying to figure out what Eragon was getting at. Did Eragon intend to go out and find his mystery father? Did having a father outside Carvahall make Eragon think he didn't belong there? Or did Eragon know who his father was? Eragon knew that these questions were going through Brom's head. Brom wouldn't give anything away until Eragon hit him over the head with the truth.

Brom opened his mouth, smiled slightly, then said, "Well, your uncle will know more about that than I do, but if you have a city in mind I could tell you about it." He took a long puff of his pipe while waiting for Eragon's response.

_I should have known this wouldn't be easy_, Eragon sighed in his head.

_Eragon, he's not going to admit to anything unless you admit to something first. He thinks he's protecting you, he's not going to tell you he's your father on a whim_, Saphira interjected.

Right, admitting things. I can do that. Eragon looked Brom in the eyes and said, "I know what the cities are like outside of Carvahall and I know that you're my father." Brom's eyes widened in shock and his jaw loosened just enough to drop. Eragon continued talking, ignoring Brom's expressions, "I suppose my question is, where should Saphira and I go first?"

Eragon paused and watched Brom, who had forgotten his pipe and was gaping like a fish. "H..How did you know… Where did you…?" Brom started to ask confused by the seemingly simple farm boy.

Slightly pleased at having been to one to know more than Brom and not the other way around, Eragon motioned for him to calm down."It's a long story, that involves a great deal of magic and to get through it you're going to want a great deal of alcohol."


End file.
